A tipsy twist on science

This review by longtime Charlotte arts critic Lawrence Toppman was published by The Charlotte Ledger on May 4, 2026. You can find out more about The Charlotte Ledger’s commitment to smart local news and information and sign up for our newsletter for free here. Ledger subscribers can add the Toppman on the Arts newsletter on their “My Account” page.

by Lawrence Toppman

I was roaring drunk last month at Discovery Place. I’m talking about a blood alcohol level of 0.25 — a helplessly staggering, bouncing off furniture, can’t clap my hands, suddenly-the-room’s-gone-dark level of stupor. But after 90 seconds, I took off my drunk goggles and sobered right up.

If you don’t associate the phrase “drunk goggles” with the region’s premiere science museum, you have never attended one of its monthly, adults-only “Science on the Rocks” sessions.

The “science” part is obvious: Most exhibits visitors see during the day remain open, except the rainforest; nocturnal animals need peace. Other exhibits, such as “Bam-booze-ld: The Science of Being Drunk,” come out only for the over-21 crowd. Staffers don’t want kids trying on goggles that replicate five stages of intoxication, from pleasantly tipsy to totally wasted. There I heard my second favorite comment of the night, from a guy wearing fourth-stage goggles: “These are really realistic!” I didn’t ask how he knew.

And the “rocks” part? Well, it could have referred to flash-frozen ice cream, created by infusing liquid nitrogen into a mixture of chocolate sauce and banana moonshine. (Best dessert of my week.) It could refer to the special drink bartenders create for each session; the April one, Queen’s Tea, contained gin, elderflower liqueur, lemon juice, pear nectar and sparkling wine. A full bar also offered liquor drinks, THC drinks, mocktails, craft beer, soft drinks, etc.

Loosely interpreted, “rocks” could even refer to the freewheeling vibe. A disc jockey wearing a Mad Hatter topper — the April theme was “Alice in Wonderland” — played music that never stopped, whether disco, house or gentler techno. As I left at 9:55, five minutes before the presumed closing at 10 p.m., patrons were bumping to the Commodores’ “Brick House.” A friendly but tired security guard uttered my third-favorite comment: “I’m leaving at 10. Don’t know what happens after that.”

Most of the time, “drag” at Discovery Place refers to one of the forces affecting an airplane in flight. But in Wonderland, it had another meaning: A burly male Red Queen in a train so long an attendant hoisted it, swept imperiously among exhibits, commanding “Off with his head!”

The great thing about “Science on the Rocks” is that adults behave like children most of the time. They crowded around an Argentine black-and-white tegu, who looks like a small monitor lizard, and an Eastern box turtle named Beyoncé to ask a staffer the same questions youngsters do and timidly stroke the animals. They jumped into a chair propelled upward by a vacuum that removes the air above it, pulling it higher like soda in a straw. They ran on a track in an immense hamster wheel that measured energy they created before collapsing in a giggling heap.

Yet there’s a welcome sense of space and, often, a sense of calm. I have never lain on the museum’s bed of nails on a daytime visit, because there’s always a crowd around it. Nobody ran shrieking through the aquarium or tapped on the glass to confound irritated fish. As one woman gratefully observed — this was my favorite comment — “It’s so much more enjoyable without all those rugrats.”

Though I was probably the oldest person in the building in my 70s, the crowd was a mix of ages, races and ethnicities I don’t always see at Charlotte events. Most dressed casually, but some were attired for a Friday night on the town, perhaps planning to continue their Bam-booze-ld experiment elsewhere.

People were considerate about sharing space and helping other visitors. I saw that many times among the concealed amphibians in the Fantastic Frogs exhibit; once you detected the marine toad, whose skin shoots toxic mist into the eyes, nose and mouth to cause pain and blindness, you were obligated to pass the knowledge on.

Because certain exhibits change from month to month, I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to play black-light croquet with fluorescent balls — not Wonderland hedgehogs, but the next best thing. Nor, maybe, will you paint on paper using Earl Grey and fruit-flavored tea, a strangely relaxing solo experience.

Shows in the IMAX theater, which you buy separately, could be different; May partygoers will get a planetarium display. Hands-on experiences also have separate fees but send you home with a self-made product: This month, you’ll learn how to do letterpress printmaking with LEGO tiles.

I chose the much simpler “Toad Abode,” where I clumsily adorned a small ceramic pot with glass beads, tiny faux flowers and other decorations. (I’d place it later under an osmanthus in my back yard, half-filling it with dirt and leaves in hopes a visually impaired toad would find it acceptable.) After three hours of partying, playing and petting tolerant reptiles, my modest creative burst seemed like the perfect conclusion to the night.

Lawrence Toppman covered the arts for 40 years at The Charlotte Observer before retiring in 2020. Now, he’s back in the critic’s chair for the Charlotte Ledger — look for his reviews several times each month in the Charlotte Ledger.